


The Rush of Lissome Sight

by elistaire



Category: Queen of Swords
Genre: Blindfolded in a Pit Challenge, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-23
Updated: 2011-03-23
Packaged: 2017-10-17 05:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elistaire/pseuds/elistaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a Blindfolded in a Pit Challenge. So: Dr. Helm, in a pit, and blindfolded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rush of Lissome Sight

"How do you get yourself into these things, Doctor?" The Queen stared down into the sloped pit, hands on her hips. Dr. Helm was lying at the bottom: bloodied, sun-burned, and barely conscious. "Just lucky, I guess," she answered for him and jumped into the pit. She gently lifted the Doctor's head, wincing for him at the large knot she felt at the base of his skull. "Can you get up? You have to help me. I can't get you out of here on my own."

Dr. Helm coughed, his whole body shaking, and nodded slightly. "Just…just give me a minute." His voice was weak and dry, as light as the sound of quill upon parchment. His eyelids fluttered and then quickly shut, and he turned his head towards the shadows. "I need something for my eyes."

"Your eyes?" the Queen asked, confused.

"Yes, my eyes," Dr. Helm replied, with a touch of the old arrogance that she knew so well, and was relieved to hear on this occasion. It meant he might not die, after all. "At the moment I seem to have some photosensitivity," he explained, his voice growing weaker. "The sun. The lack of water."

"Oh, of course." She spent a moment to consider, then took off her sash and wrapped it gently around his head.

Together they climbed out. It was a slow and grueling process and the Queen had to guide the doctor carefully, but finally they reached the top. Dr. Helm collapsed, near exhaustion.

"Just a little more, Doctor," the Queen urged. "My horse is right here."

The man could barely climb onto the horse, his hands touching and searching for a hold that he could not see, and his limbs trembled as he clambered up. But he managed to cling on, and the Queen slowly walked Chico home. There was no where else to go.

Town was out of the question--the soldiers were there in force and she needed someone that could tend to the doctor's injuries. That left only Marta--and her own hacienda. Not that it mattered much, she supposed, as in a few days she and Marta would board a ship and return to Spain. Mexico was threatening, many of the other Dons and their families had already fled, and her reason for staying--Colonel Montoya and Captain Grisham, both of whom she believed had murdered her father--were being pressed into service in territory where she could no longer follow.

Even this last venture out was foolish. Except…the Doctor had been in danger, and she could no more leave him lying broken at the bottom of a pit than she could have not become the Queen in the first place. But the world was changing, and the rebel Queen would be wise to step away before the larger forces crushed her.

Besides, she longed for home, and now that she was older, she had grown weary of the constant fight, and dreamed of continuing her father's legacy in a more traditional fashion. If any one would still look at such an old maid as she.

They reached the hacienda and Marta came out to help her bring the doctor inside. She didn't say anything but the worried look on her face was question plain enough. "There wasn't any other choice," she said and Marta nodded, but did not look mollified.

He slept through the night, the next day, and all of another night. Marta did what she could, and Tessa hovered worriedly.

"He might not see again," Marta counseled as she raised his eyelids and added by drops a healing tincture. "So much damage." Tessa nodded, and busied herself with preparing cooling washcloths.

It wasn't until dawn of the day they were to leave on the ship that Dr. Helm finally woke.

"Well, Doctor, we were wondering if you'd care to join us, or the angels." Tessa tried for her normal haughty tone, but the last few words dropped in pitch.

Dr. Helm blinked, one hand coming up to touch his forehead, and he looked around the room before settling his attention on her. Then he gave her a light, confused smile. "I suppose I've joined the angels, then."

Tessa blushed.

"Thank you," he said, his dark eyes serious, and focused so strongly on her that Tessa thought that perhaps his temporary blindness had given him the ability to see directly to her soul.

"It was the Queen," she started, "she brought you here and--"

Dr. Helm laughed, breaking her explanation into the flimsy sticks it had been built of. He reached for the red sash, which had fallen to the side. "No more lies between us." He looked through her again with his un-blinded eyes. "Thank you."

She swallowed and hastened to press forward. "We're leaving on the Litaneia this afternoon." The ship was already anchored, and many of their things had previously been loaded. In a few hours, she and Marta would be gone from Santa Elena, and this part of her life would become only a memory, something from a dim, distant past.

"So as I can finally see, I am also left in the darkness," he whispered.

"The ship isn't full," she whispered back, her mouth suddenly dry. "What do you have left here?"

"Nothing I ever wish to see again. They say the most beautiful views are those in Spain." He smiled again, and gazed upon her with his strange eyes, and Tessa had no trouble believing in visions.


End file.
